Bridges
by Dark-Dreymer
Summary: Prayers Finn made to the Grilled Cheesus and the time he worked things out on his own.


In the euphoric aftermath of McKinley's win almost everything slowed to a hazy blur in Finn's mind, but a particular memory stood out sharply in his memory. As he was wheeling Artie out into the parking lot after the game Mr. Schuester greeted them, cheeks rosy from the chill night air and his lips stretched wide in a radiant grin, he bumped fists with Artie, patted Finn's shoulder and spent the entire trip outside going over the plays with enthusiasm and awe.

So as the young man knelt before his crusty Lord in preparation to ask a second favor, he couldn't help but hesitate. He had thought he knew what he wanted, but his mind kept snapping back to the memory of his teacher walking alongside him; an arm slung casually around his shoulder; and the warmth that had enveloped him at the litany of admiration the older man gave with gusto, and it was so much harder to find the conviction of his desire when the image of Mr. Schuester's joyous smile seemed to be burned onto the back of his eyelids.

Confused and uncertain, he prayed to the Grilled Cheesus for understanding rather than material gain, asked for a sign that would show him who he should focus his attention on. As he was hastily rambling, that he'd heard somewhere once that Judas had kissed Jesus in a garden once (or something) and that his feelings for Mr. Schue were like that; the kind that didn't mean Hellfire and brimstone and all that other stuff that the sorta crazy guy from the Bible channel liked to scream about, Rachel interrupted him.

The argument was brief and Finn stumbled through much of it without understanding what she was angry about, but he heard enough to know that she wasn't happy about him having found Jesus and that she wasn't intending for them to do it any time soon which was enough of a sign for the young man to know which of his two crushes the Good Lord wanted him to pursue.

* * *

He took the holy sandwich to school with him the following day, wrapped up safely under a fresh sheet of clingfilm, and tucked it away in his locker for when he would need it.

Rachel wouldn't look at him through most of rehearsal, though when she did her eyes burned with a ferocious intensity. He imagined he could see the wheel turning in her mind, not a cute hamster, or mechanical gears as it so often appeared in cartoons, instead the clack of an iPod wheel turning as she reviewed her internal playlist looking for a vengeance song. While he wasn't anticipating that, he found himself acknowledging it only dimly at the back of his mind as he watched Mr. Schuester and fought bursts of panic as he reviewed his plan.

Rehearsal ended and Finn leaped up from his seat as if the starting pistol to a 100m dash had just gone off. Collecting his belongings from his locker with a tingling anticipation throughout his body, he crossed the hall and ducked down behind the stairwell. Listening intently for the sound of the rest of the club, and any other extracurricular stragglers, to leave; Finn placed the Grilled Cheesus atop an upturned bucket left behind by the janitorial staff and knelt before it with his palms held flat together in front of him and his eyes tightly shut.  
"So, I'm sorry for leaving you in my locker all day and I'm not sure if this is like a genie or something and I only get three wishes, but if it is then I just need this one thing and I won't bother you anymore." He peeked at the burned image on the toasted bread, then dried his sweaty palms on his pants and continued, "I guess you, um, already know about how I feel about Mr. Schue... I'm kinda planning to kiss him today, so if you could make sure that he, like, kisses me back and stuff; that'd be great." He sat in front of the sandwich for a sustained moment before giving a concluding nod and returning it to his backpack. Climbing out from under the stairwell, Finn made the trip back to the music room with the tingling anticipation turned up to eleven.

The main room was vacant and so Finn approached the office door with trepidation, finding the teacher bent over the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet with his firm, denim-clad behind up in the air. With a heavy breath, and taking a moment to turn a thankful grin towards the ceiling, the young man knocked on the open door.  
Standing up with a number of folders in his hands, the teacher looked over towards the door and smiled, "Finn. I thought you'd already left."  
"I, uh, needed to get something," Finn lied, stepping further into the room and attempting to look casual while his heart danced the tango against his ribcage.  
The older man nodded placidly and made to step round the desk, "So what can I-"  
The question cut short as Finn placed a hand to Mr. Schue's shoulder and turned him to face him. The teacher drew a sharp breath and his mouth opened slightly, his bottom lip flush and inviting before Finn so that before the older man could ask his question the student 's lips were on him.

In Finn's half-baked fantasies Mr. Schuester would've let the folders tumble to the floor and wrapped his arms around him, moaning passionately and sucking on his student's tongue with months of pent up want and need pouring into the soulful kiss.

Instead he stood, shocked stiff, as the young man's clumsy kiss landed on one corner of his mouth. He stayed similarly motionless once Finn fixed his error and connected their lips, the older man's pliant but unresponsive beneath his student's eager attempts. He didn't even drop the folders.

When the other man's lack of reciprocation registered with Finn, he pulled away slowly. The soft wool slipped through his fingers as his tight grip on the teacher's sweater became lax.  
"Finn, I think we should talk about this," Mr. Schue stated calmly, turning to place the folders down on the desk as he had before; as though the young man hadn't just stupidly kissed him.  
As the gravity of his actions settled over Finn, he found his mouth begin to ramble while his brain was filled with white noise, "I- uh, Oh man, Mr. Schuester, I'm so sorry- I shouldn't- I, fuck!"  
"It's okay, Finn. Sit down, you look like you're gonna pass out," The older man placated. The student collapsed compliantly into one of the seats. "Just breathe steady, I'll be back in a moment."  
Finn watched the teacher leave in alarm, his breath catching in his throat again as he began to contemplate who or what Mr. Schuester had gone to get; Principal Figgins, the police, a random mob to spring an intervention on him? Or maybe, his mind imagined pessimistically, he'd scared the other man so much that he was fleeing wildly.

"Here." The teacher interrupted Finn's escalating panic by returning with a Styrofoam cup of water. Handing it to the younger man, he took his place behind the desk and watched patiently. Finn sipped the water slowly, pointedly looking in any direction other than at his teacher, "Do you want to talk about it?"  
"No," Finn dismissed immediately.  
"I think it might be a good idea for you to talk to someone about it," He insisted, "If not me, Ms. Pillsbury, your mom-"  
"No," The younger man cut across with alarm, "I don't want anyone else to know about this."  
Mr. Schue's eyes narrowed and he watched his student continue to avoid looking at him, "You don't have to be ashamed, Finn."  
"I'm not," The young man told his sneakers firmly.  
The teacher sighed softly, "I understand that you have a lot going on right now and I want you to know that you can come to me for support and guidance, but I'm your teacher so that's all I can ever give you."  
"I know," Finn mumbled dejectedly, "I just..."  
"You just, what?" Mr. Schuester prompted when the young man trailed off.  
"I thought maybe... I mean, I asked my Grilled Cheesus and it seemed like it said yes."  
"You asked your _what_?" The teacher inquired flatly.  
"Grilled Cheesus," The student repeated, hunching over to search through his backpack. Pulling the clingfilm wrapped plate out he placed it on the desk, "See the burn?"  
The older man picked the plate up and looked at the sandwich, humming thoughtfully when he saw the shape burned into the corner, "So when you said you'd found Jesus?"  
"He appeared last week," Finn explained, "I've been praying to it since then. He helped us win the football game, made me the quarterback again. I asked what I should do about you and..."  
The teacher watched the holy relic silently for several moments, then turned his attention back to the younger man, "Finn, this is a sandwich."  
The student's answer was delayed by a heavy pause, "I know."  
"No, I mean, this is _just_ a sandwich," Mr. Schuester expanded, "You won the game because we have a coach who actually makes an input during matches and you're the quarterback again because you earned the position. This, what did you call it; Grilled Cheesus, had nothing to do with it."  
The callback to the previous praise that the older man had given for his performance in the game stirred up the same warmth inside Finn, a sensation that felt horribly incongruous to the current situation and so the young man responded with cynicism,"You don't understand Mr. Schue-"  
"I understand. It can be comforting to know that there's a higher power watching out for you, but you can't let faith blind you," The teacher replied sagely.  
The student frowned and turned away from the teacher again, looking down at his twiddling thumbs distractedly, "What do you mean?"  
"Faith should help you make difficult decisions, not make them for it. It should give you the confidence to face challenges, but you shouldn't run into danger expecting it to keep you safe either." Mr. Schuester sighed heavily to himself, "Finn, did you only kiss me because of this sandwich?"  
The younger man looked up abruptly, wanting to deny the accusation, but found himself caught in the other man's gaze and blurted out the honest answer before he could think it through, "Yes." He bit his lip immediately afterward and returned to examining his hands in his lap.  
"Okay, Finn I think you need to take some time to think things through," Mr. Schuester suggested, "Forget this sandwich, forget what anyone else has told you and just come to a decision yourself."  
"What if... what if I still want to kiss you after I've made my decision?" He asked hesitantly, lifting his head but still not quite meeting his teacher's eye.  
The older man drummed his fingers on the desk and took some time to reply, "I think that's a bridge to cross when, and if, we come to it," He finally hedged.  
"Can I go now?" Finn inquired after an awkward silence.  
"Of course. I'll see you tomorrow," Mr. Schuester answered. The student leaped up and turned for the door in a perfect mirror of his eagerness to leave Glee less than half an hour before, as he reached the door the older man called him back, "Finn."  
The young man paused with a hand on the door handle and turned back to find the teacher holding the Grilled Cheesus out to him, "I thought you said it was worthless."  
"It's your decision to make," Mr. Schuester answered openly. The young man wavered slightly, then stepped back into the room and took the sandwich back. He watched the other man's expression tensely, expecting scorn for his choice but the teacher only smiled softly, "Have a nice evening, Finn."  
The student nodded in return on his way out the door, "You too, Mr. Schue."

When the door slid closed behind the young man, the teacher collected himself, opened the first of the folders he'd set down on his desk and inspected the papers inside. After a few forced moments he fanned the papers out across the desk, threw down his pen and pushed back from the desk in open defeat.

* * *

Finn wasn't in school for the rest of the week.

Rachel firmly denied having cursed him with voodoo, but only on the grounds that she didn't believe in messing with the Occult and not because she didn't wish him suffering.

Mr. Schuester watched the empty seat in Spanish class and at Glee rehearsal and worried about the young man.

* * *

Finn walked briskly down the halls on Monday morning, a few people called out to ask where he'd been the previous week but he was a man on a mission and so didn't stop to talk. He faltered slightly outside the Spanish classroom, but persevered with the same confidence that he'd shown when he was relying upon the Grilled Cheesus and entered the classroom.

Mr. Schuester looked up from unpacking his satchel and smiled, "Good morning Finn, it's good to see you back."  
Finn nodded in reply, stopping in front of the teacher's desk and shuffling his feet awkwardly, "Hey, s-sorry I missed rehearsal on Friday."  
"It's okay, I understand," The older man replied sympathetically.  
"It's not- I didn't- I got food poisoning," The younger man spluttered.  
"Food poisoning?" The teacher repeated, eyebrows raised in surprise.  
"I thought a lot about what you said the other day and I decided to get rid of the Grilled Cheesus, but um, apparently eating a two-week-old grilled cheese sandwich is a really dumb idea," Finn elaborated with a lopsided smile.  
"Yes, that doesn't sound like a very good idea," Mr. Schuester agreed with a bemused grin.  
"But I didn't come here to tell you about how I spent most of Tuesday morning blowing chunks into a toilet bowl," Finn declared grandly.  
"Of course not," The teacher agreed, his eyes squeezed shut somewhat squeamishly at the bluntness of the phrasing, but the grin on his face had grown more affectionate.  
"I just wanted you to know that I made my decision, and... I still want, you know..." He trailed off and tucked his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels uncomfortably, "and I get that you probably don't want to, and even if you did there's all these reasons why it's a bad idea, so I promise that nothing has to change between us and I won't ever mention it again after today..." Pulling a slightly crumpled envelope from his pocket, the younger man passed it across, "But if you ever do want to cross that bridge, you can open this."  
"Finn-" The teacher spoke warily, eyes on the envelope.  
"Okay, see you later Mr. Schue." Without waiting for a reply Finn darted out of the room and closed the door behind him. Ducking to one side and approaching the door from an angle, he watched through the glass as his teacher considered the envelope and eventually tucked it into the satchel.

* * *

Finn had been filled with tremulous excitement throughout the whole of that first week in desperate anticipation of Friday evening, but even though he waited for some time after the scheduled hour the man he was waiting for didn't appear. Disheartened, he nonetheless reminded himself that he had seen Mr. Schue putting the envelope into his satchel and so he returned the following Friday.

As the weeks passed and the routine became practiced he learned to stop lingering beyond the allotted hour, learned to stop watching the ends of the streets in search of an approaching figure, learned to bring something to occupy himself with while he waited.

As the weeks turned to months and Fall turned to Winter he met Kurt's new friend and began to see the depths he'd previously not considered. He forsook his misgivings and talked to Ms. Pillsbury, to his mom and Burt, to Kurt and his friend who could help him to understand; and through it all he still spent an hour each Friday waiting.

As Winter turned to Spring and Mr. Schuester led the club in a determined charge to defeat their old foe and win their place at Regionals, win their right within the school, Finn adjusted to the changing attitudes of those around him but stayed true to his promise and didn't act any differently around his teacher even as he longed for him to appear every Friday.

As Summer brought them victory and freedom from education's oppressive grasp for a few fleeting months, Finn continued his wait; driven by stubborn determination, habit and irrepressible hope.  
"Hello Finn."  
The young man jumped slightly, the calm of his iPod coma broken by the arrival of the older man, "Mr. Schue." He scrambled with the music player, turning it off and pulling his earphones out; tucking the bundle away into his pocket.  
"How long have you been waiting, Finn?" The teacher inquired curiously.  
Checking the time on his phone the young man answered, "About fifteen minutes."  
"That isn't what I meant," Mr. Schuester stated pointedly.  
"I know," Finn answered, turning to look at the other man with a soft smile, "How long do you think?"  
"I've seen you here every week this summer," The older man replied  
"You've been watching me?" The student queried.  
"But I'm guessing," The teacher continued without answering, "that you've been here every week since you gave me this." He held the envelope up, it was now more battered than ever and the torn edge revealed it had been opened.  
"You're right," Finn answered, his voice soft.  
"Why?" Mr. Schuester asked with obvious confusion, his elbows leaning on his knees and his gaze cast down at the ground, "Why would you wait that long without even knowing if I would show up?"  
It was a question that the young man had asked himself more than once in the time he'd spent waiting and so he had the answer readily, "Faith helps you make difficult decisions and face challenges. I had faith that you'd show up eventually and now here you are."  
"Here I am," The older man confirmed, turning to Finn with a melancholy smile, "It's probably disappointing after so long."  
"That all depends," The younger man answered, placing a hand to the other man's shoulder and rubbing gently. Leaning in slowly, Finn felt a burst of delight when the teacher mirrored his movements and the two hovered with their lips inches apart, "on how this plays out."

They stayed together, on the cusp of a kiss, for several long moments. Finn licked his lower lip tentatively, not wanting to repeat his hungry attempt to devour the other man's mouth and so left it up to the older man to make the connection mutual. Mr. Schuester's hand came up slowly, his fingertips resting tentatively under his student's jawline in order to guide their lips together.

Finn exhaled softly once the kiss ended, his eyes had fallen shut but they fluttered open and he smiled brightly, "_So_ worth the wait."  
The teacher chuckled and took Finn's hand, squeezing it tightly, "There's still so much to deal with. I'm your teacher, we have to consider what your family might-"  
The younger man shushed him and abruptly kissed him again, smiling brightly when he pulled back, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."  
The older man laughed at the cheeky response, but was satisfied enough with the answer to acquiesce for the time being.


End file.
